Ren of Atikala: The Empire of Dust

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Ren of Atikala: The Empire of Dust Page 8

by David Adams


  “Nuriel is nice,” said Aleria. “Although there are strange creatures there—pumpkins that walk like people, the living dead, you name it. But everyone seems to get along a’right. They have some kind of system.” She smiled kindly. “You could head there. A human, however odd, would be accepted.”

  “That seems reasonable,” I said. “I don’t want to endanger the village.”

  How strange that my words felt genuine to me. I didn’t want harm to come to these people, but I was actively planning to attack it.

  Maybe I just didn’t want Contremulus to destroy it before I could.

  Aleria smiled at me. “Well, I’m glad you understand,” she said. “C’mon. I’ll take you for a drink.”

  “That would be good,” I said. My mouth was actually kind of dry. Another thought occurred to me, something of strategic value. “Where does this village draw its water from?”

  That seemed to amuse Serren greatly. “Water? Lass, when someone invites you out for a drink, you drink mead.” He hesitated. “You know what mead tastes like, right?”

  I did. Sweet and delicious, Tyermumtican had fed me some to numb the pain of having my broken arm mended.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’ve tried it. Once, on the road, some time ago.”

  “Only once?” asked Aleria. With a glance to Serren, who nodded approvingly, Aleria began leading me towards the centre of town. “Time to change that.”

  CHAPTER VI

  THE HUMAN TAVERN WAS, MUCH like the Witty Fox, a construction of stone and wood. It was nestled in the centre of town, afforded almost pride of place in the heart of this tiny village. My people had placed the grand central spire in the heart of Ssarsdale. Our leaders were the symbols of our society and the most important thing to us. Humans, apparently, had other ideas.

  “The tavern doesn’t have a name,” said Aleria, almost apologetically. “We’re much too small for that. There was a bit of a push to name it, several seasons back, but nobody agreed in the end…so here we are.”

  The door was open. I got the impression it was always open. This was a distinct tactical deficiency. It might be able to be barred, but the roof was made of some kind of plant material. It looked flammable. If they sealed the doors, it would be their tomb.

  Aleria led me inside.

  The inside was bustling with people. Humans, mostly, apart from two elves in the corner, nursing their drinks. Nobody paid either of us any attention, but in contrast to the dour mood of Rockhearth, everyone here seemed quite energetic. Serving staff manoeuvred around from table to table, delivering drinks with cordial smiles.

  “It’s still only afternoon,” said Aleria. “This place will liven up when night comes.”

  I had to half shout to be heard, as did everyone else, leading to a seemingly constant escalation of voices. “This is considered quiet?” I asked.

  “For our little tavern, certainly. When the sun goes down, it’s standing room only in here.”

  Although Aleria seemed proud, almost, of her statement, standing room only was daily life for us. Kobold cities were always full to the brim of souls. I was not uncomfortable, but I was surprised.

  The tavern felt like home.

  I nodded anyway. “I think that would be interesting,” I said.

  Aleria guided me to one of the few empty tables. She sat, and I sat opposite her. A man with long dark hair and bronzed skin slid up to us, folding his hands politely. He had eyes that were more narrow than most of the other humans here.

  “Good morning,” he said, smiling at Aleria. “The usual?”

  “The usual, love,” said Aleria. They were clearly close.

  “And for your friend?” He turned to me.

  There was something about him that vaguely unsettled me. He was staring at me with eyes that were empty; behind them was a person, certainly, but not. I had seen a similar thing in Contremulus.

  I didn’t think this person was the living dead. He breathed. He moved with a realness that belied the truth of his life…but there was something missing, too.

  He was more akin to Pewdt. Utterly uncaring and amoral. Empty in the soul.

  “I,” I said, choosing my answer carefully, “will have a mead.”

  “Wise choice,” said the server. He continued to stare at me as though he were trying to see past me. I didn’t like it.

  After a pause that was ever so slightly less than comfortable, the man dipped his head and made his way to the bar to fetch our drinks.

  “That’s Erelim,” said Aleria. “He’s a visitor here too, from Liang. I’m not surprised to see him here…Liang doesn’t treat its menfolk very well, I hear. Not surprising he’d run as far away from his homeland as he could. He’s been around for a month and settled in remarkably well. Nice guy. Kind of weird, but nice.”

  I didn’t know how to say I simply had a strange feeling about the man and didn’t trust him, so I remained polite. “It is good that Ivywood is so welcoming of outsiders.”

  “We try,” said Aleria. “At the end of the day, we’re all people.”

  I was as far from humanity as I could be, in every way, except how I looked.

  Almost as though on cue, another pair of humans came into the bar, sitting at the booth behind us.

  “That’s Varsen, head of the watch,” said Aleria, pointedly looking over her shoulder. “And Leran, the second in command.” She laughed, quietly enough that they couldn’t hear. “Everyone knows those two boys were lovers—emphasis on the was. Apparently there’s trouble in paradise now. And they still have to work together…”

  I didn’t really understand what she was trying to tell me, but the head of the watch would be a valuable contact to make. I nodded to Aleria, trying to overhear the conversation behind me.

  “The under tribes are growing restless,” said one. Varsen. “They will attack us soon. Within the decade…possibly sooner.”

  How did they know so much about our movements?

  “It’s just a cycle,” the other one said. “It’s very simple. The population grows uncontrollably, breeding constantly. But there’s only so much room in the underground tunnels, so they expand until they meet occupied territory, go to war, get slaughtered, and then repeat the process forever. Kobolds are like rats and have to be treated the same way.”

  Rats. Vermin of the surface world. We were not vermin; we were a proud, industrious people. I felt anger simmer within me but said nothing.

  “I suppose,” said Leran. “But still. We should be cautious.”

  I felt more eyes upon me from across the tavern. By the area where drinks were prepared, the servant who had taken our orders was staring. I didn’t like it; it made me feel disempowered, wedged between the guards discussing my people so disdainfully and the drinks servant watching my every move.

  “Excuse me,” I said to Aleria. I stood and made my way over to Erelim. As I drew close, he gestured for me to follow.

  Against my better judgment, I did.

  Erelim led me to a door at the rear of the building. It led to a small room; servants quarters, I presumed. Drapes and clothes hung from wires suspended from wall to wall, and the window was closed.

  I folded my arms in front of me. “What?”

  Erelim smiled at me, that hollow, weird smile. “What?”

  “You wanted me to follow, and here I am.”

  “Here you are,” he said, playfully, as though teasing me with some truth I did not understand.

  Frustrating. “You were staring at me. What do you want?”

  “Apologies, I just wanted to give you a proper greeting in private,” he said, that smile on his face growing. “Ren of Atikala.”

  Had I misheard? I fought down a wave of panic. “N-no, my name is Reina.”

  “Mmm, no. Your name is Ren of Atikala; you’re a kobold, and that amulet around your neck makes you appear as a human.” The edges of his mouth curled up, as though he’d solved some great mystery. “A simple trick, but mine’s better.”

  He kne
w. But how? The noise and bustle of the inn was close, but too far away to hear our conversation, and the thick walls of this place muffled our conversation.

  “Who are you?” I asked, reaching into the depths of my mind, reading my magic. If I needed to burn this man to ashes, I would. I would burn this whole place down to escape…

  “I wouldn’t do that,” said the man, waggling a finger at me dismissively. “Start a fire in here, and everyone in this building will die, you and me included.” A slow smile came over him. “Well…you would not, at least, lest you be crushed by the debris. Fire immunity. Interesting.”

  He could read my mind. This much was obvious to me by now.

  “What are you?” It seemed like the better question.

  His form melted away, and he became a different human, tall, female, with a shaved head and angled features. Then again, to a male teenager with scraggly hair and a face full of spots, then all of his features melted away; he became a thin, gangly humanoid with no hair and pale, lidless eyes and grey skin, featureless in almost every way.

  “Doppelganger,” he explained, his voice echoing and otherworldly.

  I had heard of these creatures. Shapechangers who delighted in integrating into the societies of others; they were notoriously patient and detached from the goings on of the world. They simply wanted to learn and study others, to settle into a society for a few years, absorb everything they could, then move on.

  They were not, however, academics, nor was their presence harmless. Many doppelgangers treated their infiltrations as social experiments; they typically assumed the forms of powerful people, then manipulated and mistreated others for their amusement.

  “My name is Z,” he said. “Just Z. I’m from Liang. Erelim is the name I wear in this guise; soon I will discard it like a worn coat and assume another.”

  No doubt this was true. I ground my human teeth together. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “You keep my secret,” he said, “and I’ll keep yours.”

  “Why?” I asked. “You must know, if you can peer into my thoughts, that I mean to annihilate this village. Why would you ever help me conceal what I am?”

  “Because,” said Z, his strange grey mouth curling up in a smile. “It’s fun. Besides, I’ll be long gone before you do that.”

  “You’re leaving?” I asked.

  Z, or Erelim, or whatever his real name was, nodded, and there was a grimness in his odd, alien eyes that I knew I should not ignore. “Contremulus and his men are coming,” he said. “Here. Sooner, rather than later. As a dragon, his perceptive abilities are somewhat legendary; as sure as I am in my disguise, there are some minds I cannot fool. You would be wise to leave before then, too.”

  This was dire news. “How long?”

  “Soon,” he said. “A month. Two or three at the outset. I’m not omnipotent. The soldiers will trickle in, an advanced scout or two, then a vanguard to establish a fort and secure supply lines, then the main force will arrive. Given the size of the movement, it is possible Contremulus himself may pay this little village a visit. He won’t treat them well.” Z blew out an uninterested sigh. “Shame, really. These people are actually quite nice.”

  I nibbled on the inside of my cheek. I could not have Contremulus establish a base here, not even temporarily. I would have to step up my plans, attack sooner…

  Or not at all.

  “What if,” I said, “he was diverted to some other town?” I searched my mind for the name of the other place Aleria had mentioned. “Shadowton?” What if…

  “Sharrowton,” Z corrected. “And yes, you’re right. If you revealed yourself as Ren of Atikala there, his eyes would fall off Ivywood.”

  His ability to sense what I was thinking was frustrating. “That…was indeed what I was thinking.”

  “Sounds like a good plan,” he said. Z’s form shimmered, and within a moment, he was Erelim again. “We should head back in.”

  Trusting this creature was a risk, but I had no choice. I knew he could sense my hesitation, so I tried to put it to the back of my mind and not think about it. If he wanted to betray me, he could, at any time, and I would be essentially powerless to stop it.

  I did not like feeling powerless at all.

  “I need some air,” I said, and I pulled open the door to the sleeping quarters.

  “Come back when you’re ready,” said Z, and then he left.

  Rather than head back to the main tavern area, I instead turned down the corridor and went out a side door, outside to a porch area bathed in sunlight, bounded by a wooden railing.

  An overhang jutted out from the building, shading my eyes, yet the brightness did not bother me at all. My human eyes saw just fine. Nearby, someone was chopping wood with a large axe. I idly stared at him while he worked, leaning up against the railing.

  What was I doing here in this town? I had come a long way and spent a lot of time preparing myself to destroy it…but as I listened to the sound of the merriment from the tavern drifting through the wooden walls, and as I recounted in my mind the kindnesses I had been shown by total strangers, my desire to turn Contremulus’s eyes away from this town intensified.

  Why, though? Simply because they were nice to me?

  Did my enemies deserve to avoid death by simple acts of kindness?

  Were they even my enemies at all?

  I was in over my head.

  “Hey you,” said Aleria’s voice. I jerked, nearly jumping out of my skin. How long had she been standing right next to me?

  “Hello,” I said, trying to force my breathing back to a normal level.

  “Sorry,” she said. “You hadn’t come back for a while; I decided to come see that you were okay.”

  “I’m fine,” I said, and I turned back to the woodcutter, watching as his powerful arms swung the axe in an arc. Sweat flew from him despite the chilly air.

  Aleria seemed amused by this. “Just watching Ferland work, mmm?” Her tone became whimsical. “Ferland is Berrad’s son. They work together. Berrad takes care of the big trees, and Ferland cleans up, splitting wood and generally hefting that thing of his like it weighs nothing at all.”

  Ferland swung another blow, splitting a log in half. Each of the resultant blocks of wood were as big as my kobold body; despite the disturbing mental image, the more I watched, the more I saw the human male in a new light. The curves of his muscles. His strong legs. His body that was wide at the top and narrow at the hips. The strength in his core, the symmetry of his face, the curliness of his long hair.

  Tzala had warned me the amulet would affect my body and my mind, but I had not anticipated anything like this. The human chopping wood was mesmerising.

  “Just look at you,” said Aleria, reaching out and giving my shoulder a playful shove. “You’re as red as a beet.”

  I felt hot all over, and light headed, as though an infection had turned feverish in my blood. “What’s happening to me? Am I going to die?”

  Aleria nearly choked, hacking with laughter. The noise drew Ferland’s attention and our eyes met. I swiftly looked away.

  “No,” Aleria managed. “You won’t.” She fought for breath, and Ferland mercifully went back to his work. “You like what you see, huh?”

  Did I, or was it an effect of the amulet? “Is it wrong to do so?”

  She touched the edge of her mouth, her eyes sparkling with mirth. “You wouldn’t be the first villager to get all flustered watching him chop wood. He’s handsome, no doubt.”

  “I don’t know him,” I said, a tad defensively.

  “Well that’s true.” Aleria leaned up against the railing with me. “But, you know, we can change that. Was something I was thinking of talking to you about.”

  “Introducing me?” That seemed fine. “I’ve met plenty of new people today.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant.” She breathed in the cool air, and I did the same. “You know, I know you’re going to wander away. Travellers inevitably do. But Contremulus…what I kno
w about him, anyway…seems to indicate that he isn’t immortally patient. Eventually his eyes will turn away from you. If you wanted to, one day, you could come back here. Settle down. Stop running.”

  “That’s a kind offer,” I said, and I actually, genuinely, thought so. Ssarsdale had been less than accommodating when the Atikalan refugees and I had shown up on their doorstep; even after Tzala and I had proven our worth. Establishing myself there had only happened after a powerful display of my might, and as my mother continued to point out, my position was tenuous.

  These people had known me for less than a day and were already inviting me to stay with them.

  “One question, though,” said Aleria, turning to face me with a strange smile on her face. “Would you pay one copper to save my life?”

  It was a simple question, oddly phrased but easy to answer. “Of course.”

  “Would you pay two coppers?”

  My understanding of the surface economy was poor, but certainly Aleria’s life was worth more to me than that. “Yes.”

  “What about three?”

  I could see where this was going. “You’re trying to find out what my limit is; how much your life is worth to me in monetary terms.”

  “That’s right,” she said, excitement painting her words. “You catch on fast. But it’s more than that. See, the trick is to keep adding more and more coins. Coppers turn into silvers, silvers into golds…and wherever you stop, saving my life is just one copper more. So cheap, the choice between life and death.” Aleria clicked her tongue. “Hence, my life is worth no more than a copper to you, under the right circumstances.”

  “And mine to you,” I answered. “I could use the same trick against you.”

  Aleria dipped her head in acknowledgment, and I enjoyed the silence for a moment.

  “I should go,” I said, pushing away from the rail.

  “Go?” Aleria’s eyes flicked to the town, and then back to me. “Back to the Witty Fox, or…go?”

  “Go,” I said. “On my way. But I’ll come back. I promise.”

  Aleria leaned forward, wrapping her arms around my middle and giving me a firm squeeze. “Okay,” she said. “I understand why.”

 

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